I gasped when I opened my front door. Clay stood there in an amazing suit with ashy silver hair. "Holy shit!" My mouth fell open. I raised a hand to cover it.

Clay reached up to touch his hair, combed back from his face. "Is it awful? Do you hate it?" He scrunched his face in distress. "I knew I shouldn't have gone with such a drastic change. I was just gonna get a few highlights, but between Rachel and the stylist egging me on, I was all hyped up and I just went with it."

I shook my head, mystified and awed. I didn't think it possible to become any more attracted to him. But, somehow, he'd done it. "It looks awesome."

"Really?" The compliment immediately shifted Clay's demeanor from embarrassed to confident. He straightened his posture. His lips twisted into a sultry smirk. He stepped forward, across the threshold, nudging the door shut. His hand cupped my cheek while he leaned in for a kiss, sucking on my bottom lip.

I broke the kiss before it got too heated, pressing my forehead to his. "I love the suit, too. Very hot." I brushed my fingers over his lapel.

"Back at ya." Clay slipped his arms around my waist.

Mom rounded the corner from the kitchen. Her eyes bugged out at seeing Clay, but she quickly regained her composure. "Don't you both look handsome?" She pulled out her phone. "Let me get a picture."

Clay and I leaned our heads together, holding each other close. She snapped a few shots, demanding different poses for each angle. I smiled, because I knew Clay would. Also, because for the first time in a long time, I had a reason to smile. I had a gorgeous boyfriend who loved me and treated me like I was the most important person in the world.

It seemed so strange that Clay and Alfie were such good friends—or had been, once upon a time. They couldn't be more opposite. Especially in their treatment of me. Alfie used me for his own needs, disregarding me whenever he had no use for me. Though, I had to be at his beck and call 24/7, or else he'd freak out on me, acting like I didn't care about him.

Clay, on the other hand, spent weeks pining for me in misery because he thought being my friend was what would make me happiest. We'd since talked about that, both promising we would never bottle up our feelings for the other's sake. It wasn't healthy for us or our relationship for either of us to be miserable. After all, if one of us had confided our feelings sooner, we could have been together ages ago.

"You aren't going to post those pictures anywhere, are you?" Clay asked. Worry lines creased his forehead.

Mom shook her head. "I just thought you boys would like a memento of the evening."

I stroked Clay's face to calm his nerves. He must have shaved right before coming over; his skin was smooth as silk.

"Are you ready?" Clay asked.

"Definitely." I waved goodbye to my mother as Clay opened the front door, allowing me to exit first.

I gasped, my eyes going wide at the sight of the little white Honda sitting at the curb. "You got your car back! How?"

"I had to promise to find a volunteer job to prove that I'm responsible enough to have it." Clay stuffed his hands in his pockets and chuckled. "Honestly, I think they finally just got tired of me begging. And not just me, Rachel has been on them about it, too. She hates having them drive her to school."

"Where are you volunteering? Maybe I can pick up some shifts, too, so we can spend more time together."

Clay shrugged and opened the passenger side door for me. "I'll let you know when I figure it out."

I nodded, getting into the car. I made a mental note to ask my mother if she knew of any openings in the area. She was always hounding me to help at one of the animal shelters who used her as their vet.

Clay shut the door and rushed around the front of the car to climb into the driver's seat. I plugged my phone into the aux cord as I always did. I'd created a special playlist of my favorite love songs to make the night perfect.

After starting the engine, Clay laid his hand down on the center console, awaiting my hand. I obliged, lacing my fingers through his as "You Are In Love" started playing.

At the restaurant, Clay bypassed the clumps of people waiting for a table with buzzers in hand and went straight to the hostess stand. A cute girl in a black cocktail dress greeted us and asked for the name.

"I have a reservation. Under Miller."

The girl's eyes scrolled down her tablet. She nodded, grabbing two menus from beneath her podium. "Right this way."

She took us to a table on the far side of the restaurant in the darkened gallery along the back wall. The pendulum lights hanging above these tables were much dimmer than the rest of the lights, creating a more intimate mood. We sat on opposite sides of the table. The frosted amber glass dividers between each booth made it feel like we were in our own little world.

The hostess placed two leather-bound menu books in front of us with "Stefano's" scrawled across the front. She took away the wine glasses that were part of the place setting. She must've known we weren't of age.

"How did you find this place?" I asked, flipping through the menu.

Clay glanced around at the stucco walls and the small mural painted above our table of an Italian villa—I assumed it was Italy because the restaurant had the words Italian Steakhouse written under their name on the sign. "My parents came here for their last anniversary."

"You really didn't have to bring me somewhere this fancy."

"I wanted it to be special. To show how much you mean to me." Clay reached his arm across the table, his hand palm up.

The gesture surprised me. I assumed with Clay being mostly in the closet he'd be averse to PDA. Obviously, the first time we kissed was in the middle of a public park, but I thought that was just a result of being lost in the moment and forgetting where he was.

Regardless, I slipped my hand into his, smiling as he stroked his thumb across my knuckles. "I would've been just as happy at McDonald's, as long as I'm with you."

"I love you." Clay said, beaming.

"I love you, too." My eyes drifted up to Clay's hair when he reached up to self-consciously touch it again. "I also love your hair. I can't believe you did that."

Clay chuckled to himself. "You know, when my mom agreed to let me do it, she let Rachel get hers done, too. She's now blonde with purple highlights, by the way." He shook his head, as if he'd strayed from his point. "Anyway, Rachel actually said me being gay is the best thing that ever happened to her."

That caught me off guard. My head reared back before a smile spread across my face.

"What?" Clay's brows knitted together.

"That's the first time you've said that."

His eyes bounced side to side, still confused. "I don't follow."

I leaned forward over the table. "That you're gay."

A laugh bubbled out of him. He copied my posture, bringing his face closer to mine. "I thought it became fairly obvious when we started making out. And I don't know how you could question it after what happened in your room this afternoon."

"I wasn't really sure if that's how you identify."

"Oh." Clay said, sitting back. He nodded. "Yeah. It is."

"I didn't know. Because you've had girlfriends. I didn't want to assume anything."

"Well, now you know." Clay squeezed my hand and smiled. He leaned forward again, a new sense of excitement on his face. "Actually, speaking of that, the guy who tailored my suit was very hot."

I raised my brows. "Was he now?"

Clay backed away, his smile fading. "Should I not say things like that? Is that weird? I never really had this issue with my girlfriends, since I never looked at other girls."

I placed my other hand on top of his, smiling to ease his nerves. "It's fine, babe. We should be honest. You can look all you want, just no touching."

"Trust me, baby, the only person I want to touch is you." The amorous look Clay gave me was proof enough of that. I pressed my lips tight to hide my growing smile and looked down at the menu.

Noticing the prices, I stared at Clay. "This steak costs forty-five dollars. And that one is sixty!" I whisper-screamed.

"Don't worry about the price." Clay said, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Get whatever you want. I got it covered."

It was a sweet offer, but I resolved to be a considerate boyfriend. I'd find something on the menu that wouldn't bankrupt him for the sake of one meal.